


Give it All

by mirilik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Jealous!Harry, M/M, Minor Violence, Smut, Tomlinshaw - Freeform, Unsafe Sex, a bit sad!harry and sad!louis, but you know, handjobs, its just one tiny scene but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:05:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirilik/pseuds/mirilik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two things that Harry Styles is absolutely sure about. First, that Louis Tomlinson hates Nick Grimshaw.<br/>Second, that Louis Tomlinson is his best mate until their dying day.<br/>Somehow things get complicated when Louis starts dating Nick and Harry realises that he might have some feelings for his mate which are very not appropriate for a best friend. </p><p>A friends to lovers university AU with a bit of Tomlinshaw, a tad of angst and loads 'n loads of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give it All

**Author's Note:**

> Long story short: I wanted to continue my chaptered fic and instead created this thing. It was planned a fluffy 3k thing-y and ended with 18k which my lovely, lovely friend [ J ](http://zitronenfaltermaedchen.tumblr.com/) had the pleasure of listening to me whining about. Anyways this is it, make the best out of it!
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> **I do not own anybody other than the original character in this fic. This is all fiction. I do not earn anything with. This is not intendet to harm anybody mentioned in this fic or people around them.**

“C’mon Harry we’re running fucking late!”

Harry sighs. As much as he’s able to sigh, while running like his life depends on it. 

“Lou- eh!”, he whines, trying to reach the older boy. 

“No, Harry, not this time, I swear!”

“It’s just a fucking party, Lou. Don’t -”

“Don’t ‘don’t’ me, Hazza!”, Louis yells and finally, fucking _finally_ , stops. Sadly so abruptly, that Harry runs into the smaller boy.

There’s a small _thud_ which is apparently enough to topple Louis over and let him fall. Luckily just in this moment Harry’s otherwise quite absent speed of reaction is on point and the hard grip he has on Louis’ bicep is enough to keep him upright.

“Shit, Lou, I’m sorry. I - I didn’t see it coming that you would stop and -”

“Harry seriously”, Louis sighs and lifts his eyebrows. “You need to focus. We need to get to this party asap. You understand?” 

He’s already halfway turned, ready to run again, but Harry still has Louis’ arm in his hand and is clever enough to use this to his advantage. 

“No, Lewis, I do not understand. What’s about this party that you need to run through half of London? You’re going to a party practically every two days. What happened to _it’s called fashionably late, Hazza, seriously what did you even learn in high school_?”

Louis sighs, again, but eventually moves his body so he's standing right across from Harry. “Nick Grimshaw’s gonna be at this party.”

“And?”, Harry urges him to move on. Because seriously, Nick Grimshaw is probably the second most popular person at King’s College (Louis Tomlinson unquestionably owning the first place in this one, Harry’s 100% sure) and therefore invited to every fucking party hosted by anyone in London. At least student parties and stuff. Although… Nick’s a fair bit older than Harry so, maybe he’ll graduate in a few months and then Louis won’t be so… _obsessed_ with Nick. Not that he’s complaining though. Louis actually hates Nick which - _right_.

“You hate Nick Grimshaw”, he states easily and a small smile tugs on his lips. And this has definitely nothing to do with the fact that Nick Grimshaw looks even more handsome every time they see him and that he’s as out and proud as Louis is and that they’d be the perfect couple, _the_ power couple on campus you might say, and that Harry maybe already had quite a few nightmares about this topic and- 

“That’s the point”, the smaller lad interrupts Harry’s way too wild thoughts. He’s still confused though.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”, Louis asks, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees Harry’s pouty face. It’s not Harry’s fault that he can’t always follow Louis’ racing thoughts and fantasies. 

“Look, Niall’s irish, right? And he’s got free booze, sponsored by his rich as fuck father as a congratulation on his exams, Niall nailed with nearly a hundred percent and whatever he’s got the good kind of vodka with my favourite flavour and I coincidentally know that Nick fucking Grimshaw loves that shit just as much as I do and will bunker it just to get on my fucking nerves. You see? We need to get that stuff and hide it before this bugger is there and does the same. So you’re on or what?”

Harry’s not sure if he gets all the significance of this mission but nods nonetheless. He has no other choice, really. Everyone who knows Louis Tomlinson, is very aware of that fact.

\---

They were too late, of course. And Louis was right, even though Harry still had one or two doubts that Nick is just as immature as Louis is, but oh well. Can’t be right at everything, can you?

So Nick really bunkered all the honeydew vodka which Louis apparently loves more than his dignity, because all that he’s doing now, after all the insults for Nick left his mouth, is pouting and sitting in the corner of the room. While approximately fifty other people dance like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by Louis’ face the apocalypse is really near so, maybe dancing like that isn’t the most horrible thing to do.

“C’mon Loueh, forget about the stupid vodka and let’s enjoy the night. Let’s dance! Please!”, Harry murmurs into Louis' ear (he’s practically forced to do it, blame the loud music blasting through the small flat) and he’s definitely not afraid to beg. Especially not when he sees how Nick eyes Louis from the other side of the room. Some shit is definitely about to go down, Harry can feel it in his veins.

“Not in the mood”, Louis mumbles in his fist, on which he’s draped his head rather unspectacularly. 

“Really?”, Harry asks again. One cannot say that the thought of just sitting with Louis Tomlinson, being able to breathe the same air and having his attention isn't appealing for Harry, but … the music _is_ pretty good after all. And they still got a month before new exams are bound to be written and what else should he do as a student than partying? On the other hand, partying without Louis is just half the fun. If that.

“You can go though, I don’t mind”, grumpy-head next to him mumbles with a tiny nod to the improvised dance floor, created by the couch being placed on the balcony for the night. 

“You sure?”

Finally Louis lifts his head and Harry is ready to squeak in joy that Louis’ moving, but his hopes are relentlessly crashed when the other boy rolls his eyes and barks: “For fuck’s sake, Harold, go move your fucking ass.”

So that’s that. And even though he’s got a bad feeling in his tummy, Harry trolls away, head held low in disappointment, to find Niall and Liam, his other best friends (but not _best_ best friends, of course, that’s Louis’ place and only Louis’), and maybe start to have some fun. 

\--

So this bad feeling Harry had becomes reality a few hours later. He had found Niall, with a blonde girl he’s never seen around ( but that’s nothing to worry about, Niall knows practically all of the United Kingdom) and Liam with his newest addition to his collection of girlfriends, Sophia. Harry secretly hopes that Liam forgets his goal of having as many girlfriends (or boyfriends, he’s not that picky) as he can get while studying, because Harry has come to grow quite fond of Soph. She’s pretty, she’s funny and she’s smart enough to hold Liam on the tight leash. She’s good for Liam and hopefully he himself realises this too. 

So they drank, they danced, they sang quite horribly but therefore loudly and Harry forgot about his best mate which is good. And a bit scary with Louis being practically the sun Harry’s universe revolves. It’s when Harry screams _I know we’re so young; But I swear you’re the one for me; I knew it right from the start; You’re some kind of heaven; That’s all that I need; I found it in you; I found it in you; You’re some kind of heaven; That’s all that I need; I found it in you; Too good to be true_ that he starts thinking about Louis again. Of course not because of obvious reasons ( _duh_ he’s not in fucking love with his best friend, thank you very much) but because it’s Louis' favourite song right now. Not that Harry knows every song by heart that Louis loves but, anyways. 

So he thinks of Louis and thinks _I haven’t seen my best mate in a long time, I guess I should look for him_ and turns to Niall and yells in his ear: “I haven’t seen my best mate in a long time, I guess I should look for him”.

“You’re so weird, Haz, I swear!”, Niall cackles back, which _rude_ , but Harry’s on a mission and may not be stopped. Harry’s also quite a bit drunk. 

So he starts strolling through the small flat and honestly, searching through a two-bedroom-flat shouldn’t take that much of time but half an hour later, Harry still hasn’t seen Louis. That may be because he isn’t even able to get towards the hallway and because he drank a few shots with people from his classes he met on the way. 

But now, four shots and thirty-six minutes later Harry finally reaches the hallway and without further ado, makes his way to the other room, which hopefully isn’t bursting off people like the rest of Niall’s home. 

He’s wearing a lopsided smile on his lips, thinking about finding Louis all alone in Niall’s bedroom, already waiting for Harry because he got so bored grumbling over Nick Grimshaw and the bloody vodka. And then they could just have a nice night together with a bit of talking and hopefully - _hopefully_ \- cuddling. Harry loves cuddling. Especially if original Tommo-hugs are involved. 

After Harry pushed the door handle down and said door open, he wishes that he could erase his former wish of a not so crowded bedroom. Because in comparison to what he’s facing now, Harry would love to find another loud and disgustingly drunk crowd.

“I- er I, oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The words tumble somehow out of Harry’s mouth while he’s (unwillingly but his legs may have forgotten how to move) watching how Nick Grimshaw is pumping Louis’ hard cock in his ridiculously large hands, while biting marks all around Louis’ collarbones just like a red and purple necklace. He maybe would’ve thought that Nick somehow poisoned his best mate and now has his way with him, if he wouldn’t hear his best mate moaning and crying for Nick to _not stop ohmygodNick please don’t stop I’msoclose ahh Harry WHAT THE FUCK_ and oh - that may have been his cue.

“Have a lovely evening”, Harry says and leaves the room quicker than he left his cell in prison this one time he got arrested for peeing in public while being drunk. And that’s quite an achievement. Not the peeing, but this new speed record. 

He doesn’t say bye to any of his friends, just stumbles out of the flat and onto the street, hoping to find a cab that he’s more than willing to pay right now. 

\--

_OhmygodHarreh please don’t stop I’msoclose ah Harry right there right fucking there.._

Harry gasps loudly and wonders for a short amount of time why he’s sitting in his bed, room way too bright, because he forgot to close the curtains after last night’s incident, and his cock way too hard after last minutes fantasies that replay quite lively in his head. 

“Shit fucking shit fucking bullshit”, he groans, falling back into his pillows and sneaking a hand down his naked torso. Not even the duvet is there to maybe hold him off this thing he’s about to do. He probably kicked it down while he dreamt. He considers if he maybe, just maybe, left his boxer briefs on last night, being too tired and erm okay - _shocked_ to actually take them off but not even this. His night routine is apparently just as much. A routine he can do when he’s practically asleep or too shocked to even think straight. Ha, straight.

He knew probably since the age of thirteen that he’s not so straight as seemingly everybody else in his little town. For being “straight” he liked his maths teacher, Mr. Rivers, a bit too much. Especially the toned muscles the man hid under his skin-tight button-ups.  
But he also liked his first girlfriend Marisa very much and is pretty sure that he enjoyed quite a lot to feel her full breasts under his fingertips. Marisa sadly was not as impressed from what Harry had to offer and that’s probably why they only lasted two months. To his defense, he was fourteen, still young and not properly developed in more than one way. If she could see his _thing_ now she would probably cry and hate herself for dumping him. 

Well, maybe not right at this moment, because she may not be impressed with Harry having his long, slender fingers wrapped around his very good developed (for fuck’s sake he doesn’t want to brag but hell, he knows that he’s got a big cock (his last one night stand called it huge, just sayin’)) dick, while thinking about his best mate moaning his name, when in reality his best mate moaned a completely different name. And, you know, is still his _best mate_.

Still, Louis’ fucked out look was probably the hottest thing Harry has ever seen and the fact that he’s living alone in a tiny one-bedroom-flat may as well be used for something great. 

It takes him about two minutes until he’s at his peak which is embarrassingly fast but hell he didn’t get off in two weeks, he’s got a mind full of a moaning, angelic like looking Louis and he's twisting his own nipples just right, that it needs only one swift motion of his thumb over the slit of his dick, that he’s a moaning mess, coming all over the butterfly on his chest, Louis laughs about every time he sees it. Which is not that often, luckily. Or sadly?

He doesn’t even know.

Fucking Louis.

\--

It’s the day after the wanking-accident, that Louis comes over to Harry’s. He, once again, doesn’t know how to feel. He’s giddy, because Louis’ coming over (yey!) and at the same time he’s dreading this encounter for everything it’s worth because fuck, he used his best mate, getting a handjob by someone else, as wanking material and how the hell should he look into Louis’ eyes now? He can’t, is the thing. And he probably never will. Which, shame, really. Louis’ got nice eyes. All bluey-green, sometimes with a bit grey when he’s angry or upset and sometimes this clear cerulean blue, which reminds Harry of the Tenerife Sea and-

A knock is sounding through the flat and Harry may have already bitten down all his fingernails upto this point. He’s a sad, embarrassing and pitiful human being.

“Coming”, he mumbles and tries clearing his throat. He sounds a bit raspy. Maybe he’s coming down with a cold. That would actually be great! That way he could turn down his rosy, heated cheeks as a side effect of a fever and - well. Or he could just man up and let Louis in.

“We didn’t fuck, okay?”, is the first thing Louis says, while rushing through the front door, ignoring Harry who’s still standing there, now staring into the empty hallway. He hears the small _thud_ which indicates, that Louis fell onto Harry’s bed like he always does. So this shouldn’t alarm Harry that much, but all that he could hear in his head was something like _I wanked there. To the thought of you. I wanked exactly there where you’re laying. Fuck I changed the sheets, didn’t I? Fuck I wanked there to the thought of you. Moaning my name. Fuckidy fuck_.

“Erm”, he finally answers, eloquently as he is known to be. “That’s good?”, he says, sounding more like a question.

“Why are you asking me this. It is good, isn’t it? I mean we didn’t even have a date and I really don’t want to be one of Nick’s bitches.”

“Erm”, Harry says again, finally able to shut the door and turn, observing how Louis lays flat on his back, view trained on the ceiling. “I thought you hate him?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”, Louis mumbles, now sounding way more in thoughts than before. That’s strange. Harry has never seen Louis like this and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it at all.

“So this was a one time thing then? A drunken mistake? A in-ten-years-we-will-laugh-about-this-shit-thingy?”, Harry asks, too quickly and with too much hope in his voice.

“I - I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

It’s now, at the latest, that all of Harry’s alarm bells are ringing in his head. What exactly is Louis trying to say here?

Before Harry is able to ask, Louis sits up and leans against the headboard, eyes now full on Harry, for the first time he entered the flat. And for the first time after the walking-in- as well as the wanking-accident. God what’s Harry’s life right now?

“He asked me out on a date after - erm, after we you know. Whatever. So he said he came extra early to Niall’s to hide all the vodka which, really, so immature” (Harry nods at that, heavily, hoping that the conversation will keep this direction, as in insulting Nick Grimshaw and definitely NOT considering to go on a date with him) “but then he said, he just did it to get my attention and you know, it worked, obviously. And then he told me that he always wanted to talk to me in private and that he thinks I’m an admirable person and that I’m er, that he thinks I’m pretty” (Louis blushes at these words and Harry’s fuming. Of course is Louis fucking _pretty_. He could have told him that way earlier than Grimshaw did. Well but Harry didn’t) “and I don’t know it was probably the alcohol and the vodka he finally gave to me but then we kissed and you know the rest is history. But well, I _thought_ he just said everything to get me into bed but we didn’t fuck after all and he asked me out so.”

“So what?”, Harry asks, panic rising in his guts.

“So I said yes.”

“Oh, oh - erm, yeah”, Harry mumbles and helplessly turns his back towards his best mate. He somehow can’t stand to look into Louis’ face right now. “You like tea?”, he asks.

“I thought you’d be happy for me…”, a quiet voice sounds through the tiny space and guilt overshadows Harry’s feelings.

“Oh Lou”, he sighs and leaves the tea to once again look at Louis. “Of course I’m happy for you. I was just… surprised, I guess.”

“I know it’s crazy innit? Who would’ve thought?” 

The excitement glimmering in the smaller man’s eyes lets Harry’s heart jump and break at the same time. He doesn’t even know how that’s possible. 

“But you know, I thought about it and maybe this is just one of those hate-to-love relationships and that works almost every time, Hazza. Never believed I’d be one of ‘em.”

 _You watch too many rom-coms!_ , is what Harry wants to scream. 

“You’ve always been a romantic at heart, Lewis”, is what he actually says and really? This is just as bad as his _Have a lovely evening_. Horrible. 

“You know me best, Hazza. We’re good, yeah?”, Louis asks with such hopeful eyes that Harry can’t do anything else than wrapping his long arms around Louis’ slim shoulders and mumble into his feathery light hair: “‘course we’re good, love you, Boo.”

“Love you too, Hazza and I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Louis coughs suspiciously and draws back from their embrace. “For you walking in on us. I know this is not exactly what you would like to see.”

“Well”, Harry starts, not knowing what exactly he’s supposed to answer. “I really don’t want to see my best friend in such promising positions.” (Lie big fat fucking LIE!)

“Yeah that and the whole thing in general”, Louis mumbles, gaze wandering down to the floor, so his long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones. 

Harry’s confused silence seems to be enough for Louis to continue.

“You know, the whole boy-on-boy action. I know that you’re not, err, especially fond of that.”

“That sounds like I’m a homophobic prick. Louis, you know that I’m not-”

“No, no! Of course not”, Louis urges, hands thrown high in surrender. “Just that it’s not your cup of tea.”

Harry considers telling Louis about Mr. Rivers and that he’s actually blown Mr. Rivers a few years after he had him as his teacher. They’ve met in a bar, Harry dancing like crazy until a tall figure with an even wider chest than himself sneaked behind him and held him close. He still hears Mr. Rivers’ slow and sexy voice in his ear. _Hey there, Harry. ‘ve always known that you’ve got a thing for older men, don’t you?_ Harry had only whimpered and nodded, arse grinding back into Mr. Rivers’ growing erection.

It took them twenty more minutes until they found themselves in an empty alley, right next to the club, Harry on his knees, giving his first ever blow-job. And judging by Mr. Rivers’ loud moans, his blissed out state he’s been in and the fucking huge load of cum in Harry’s mouth and on his face afterwards, it wasn’t the worst ever. 

_A+ for your technique, you’ve got skills, Harry_ , his former teacher had said, which… thinking about it now sounded like it came straight from a cheap porno. Then again, a blowie in a dark alley isn’t probably worth any more romantic words. 

Anyways, telling all this his best mate, who still stares at him with wide eyes and a cute, embarrassed flush on his cheeks, wouldn’t make anything any better. It would probably make things worse. 

And Harry really doesn’t need that.

\--

He doesn’t know why he’s startled every time someone knocks on his apartment door. Like, if he doesn’t expect anybody it’d be another thing but even though he _knows_ that he invited Niall and the blond one specifically said that he’d be there in about five minutes, he’s still startled when he hears the knocking on his apartment door. 

“Coming!”, he yells.

“That’s not even necessary, Harry. In this tiny flat you practically need three steps towards the front.”

“What’s not necessary?”, he asks confused and slightly annoyed that everybody just walks passed when he’s opened the door. What is with the good old hug? Or just a short nod, for heaven’s sake, he’s not that demanding. 

“Yelling, Harry”, Niall sighs, plops down onto the bed what with it being the only thing you could sit on except the tiny and very unstable looking chair, Harry keeps in his kitchen area. His flat is really tiny. The blond guy examines his space though as if he’s searching for a greater good. “Where’s Louis?”

See, his assumption is not that far away from the truth. 

He may has to stop to worship his best mate like that. (It’s not that easy.)

“Not here”, he answers with a crinkled forehead.

“Yeah, I can see that. So where’s he?”

“Erm”, Harry says. “Out?”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”, Niall suddenly snaps and jumps off the bed just so he can flick Harry’s ear. Oh and to grab a beer apparently. Of course. He’s Irish.

“Heeeey!”, Harry still whines and tries his best pout. Louis _always_ falls for it.

“You can save that, Haz. So stop fucking around. Where’s Louis? I thought we would hang out?!”

Harry mumbles something unintelligible into his non existing beard and starts strolling onto the bed next to Niall. “I called especially you so we could hang out, Niall. There’s no Louis.”

“Wait for real?” 

Harry nods, hopefully looking quite unaffected by Niall’s outburst.

“Okaaayy”, Niall singsongs and takes a gulp from his beer before he investigates further. “So where is he then?”

Harry sighs. He really had hoped to not talk about this topic tonight. But with Niall in his Sherlock Holmes Mode there’s no chance in trying to change it. 

“He’s on a date.”

A sharp intake of breath followed by a low chuckle is the only response he gets. That is until Niall took another swig. 

“With whom?”

Harry gulps heavily. He should’ve gotten more alcohol in his house. “Nick Grimshaw.”

This earns him a really loud cackle. “The fuck?!”, Niall yelps, obviously delighted by the whole drama. “I thought they hate each other.”

“Yeah that was _before_ they nearly fucked on your bed last week.”

“Nooooo don’t tell me I slept in a duvet covered by Louis’ cum!”

And well, now Harry’s the one who’s laughing.

“You are horrible”, the blond pouts and chucks the rest of his beer. “I need more alcohol.”

“Funny, had the same thought just a few seconds ago.”

“Oh Haz-bear, don’t be sad. Louis still loves you the most.”

“I’m not jealous if you think that”, Harry snaps. Smooth, Harry, very smooth. Niall smirks. “No I just think that his whole dream of a quote _hate-to-love relationship_ unquote is fucking bullshit that Nick only uses to get him in bed. And _I’m_ going to be the one who has to hear Louis’ whining all day long and that’s not fucking fair.”

“Because you don’t get any dick in the end?”

“No, for fuck’s sake Niall! I’m not interested in anyone’s dick right now, I’m just concerned for my best friend and my own mental health!”

“So you’re admitting that you _are_ interested in someone’s dick at maybe a later point?”, Niall grins, obviously proud of his high lingual abilities. 

“Shut up, Niall. I hate you.”

“No you don’t. And let’s watch that shitty baking show you love so much so we get you on better thoughts in your poor head, right?”, he grins, smacks a kiss on Harry’s cheek and actually grabs Harry’s Macbook so they could watch an entire season of _The Great British Bake Off_ on this horrible Saturday night. And well, that was what Harry wanted all along, so throwing Niall out of his flat because of outrageous behaviour could probably wait a few hours.

\--

 _We see the memetic approach as an evolutionary one. The principle of evolution by selection is best known from the natural selection theory developed by Darwin to explain evolution of biological organisms [10]. Dennett [15] calls this natural selection principle a universal acid: it is such a powerful concept that it bites through everything. Indeed, in this sense Darwin described only a special case of selection when he was dealing with biological evolution._

Harry’s sitting at his favourite place in the world right now, which is this small Starbucks right around the corner of his flat. He’s got his Macbook placed on the small table for two in front of him, café latte grande next to it and his favourite jumper falling fluffy over his shoulders. He’s not too fond that he’s got college stuff to do and this aggressive blue blackground of that website he’s currently opened is making him dizzy, but he’s nonetheless still quite happy about his choice of major. Psychology is the shit, he’s pretty sure. Also because through psychology he met Louis, which. Is probably another topic. 

His eyes roam over the table shortly just to see that he’s got a new notification on his iPhone. And as it is fate’s will, it’s a text from Louis. Or several short texts to be precise.

_haz m comin over okay? x_

_oookkayy dont answer me thats alright.._

_so u r not at home_

_nevermind i know where u r_

Harry’s not sure why Louis would know where he is but just then he hears the high pitched voice of his best friend, ordering a tea with a splash of milk. He shoots him a confused look and takes a sip of his coffee which has now, after fifteen minutes of solid studying, the perfect drinking temperature. 

Sometimes life’s really good.

“Hey Haz”, Louis smiles brightly and plops on the chair across from Harry. After a second of staring at his Macbook, Louis pushes it closed so he’s able to see him again. Louis is quite short after all.

“Sorry, Lou. Just read your texts like a minute ago.”

Louis shrugs, seemingly careless which is odd. Like normally Louis would do the whole programme. Fake pouting and whining until Harry apologized a zillion times and promised him that he loves him very much a lot. Instead, Louis just sips his tea.

“Found you, haven’t I?”, he grins smugly and squints on Harry’s notes about that online article. “Already doing the assignment?”

Harry nods and throws his notepad into the small leather bag he brought with him. Studying with Louis Tomlinson in a one meter reach is impossible. 

“You already finished?”, he asks, already knowing that it _is_ finished, because as much of a party animal and lazy person Louis is, he’s surprisingly serious about his major and also way too intelligent to have problems with any assignment they get. 

If Harry wouldn’t love this boy so much, he would probably hate him for that. But you know. He can’t.

“Nah, haven’t even started yet”, Louis laughs, crinkles by his eyes and all. Harry frowns, once again surprised.

“No?”

“No ‘ve been out so much with Nick and- oh. Yeah that’s what I wanted to tell you actually.”

A blush is creeping up Louis’ neck and Harry suddenly feels a bit nauseous. 

“So your date was good then?”, he asks politely although he really doesn’t want to know, judging by the sparkling in Louis’ eyes. He’s a horrible friend.

“It was lovely, yeah. He was really cute and attentive and like did all the steps of a perfect date. Like, he paid for dinner and took me for a walk and kissed me in front of my flat and he didn’t give me the feeling that, you know…”, he trails off, eyes not fixated on anything in the room. Thoughts probably back on that perfect dinner. Harry wants to throw up. 

“What feeling?”, he barks, cringing by the sound of his own voice. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend and he really has no right to do so. Louis luckily snaps back into reality, though.

“I never felt like I had to take him to bed so he’d be completely satisfied with the evening. He was the perfect gentleman, never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. It was really nice, Harry”, he ends and that dreamy smile on his lips breaks Harry’s heart once again. It’s pathetic, really. Starting to crush on your best friend, while he’s floating on cloud nine. With someone else. 

“That sounds really lovely, Lou. I’m happy for you”, he says nevertheless because although he doesn’t feel like it yet, he knows that all he really wants for Louis is to be happy. And if Nick is the cause of Louis’ happiness, Harry has to accept that. 

“Thank you”, Louis smiles, shy again first but it quickly turns into mischief. “Fucked him the other night, though.”

If Harry would have decided to take a sip of his coffee just two seconds prior, it would now be sputtered all across the table. And his Macbook. But now he just has to place the cup back down on the table without any mess. At least that’s something.

“Erm.”

“Sorry, Haz. But you know me. If I had a good shag I need to brag about it with someone. And Jesus Christ did I have a good fuck, Harold. Nick has really long fingers, like longer than yours and he sure as hell knows how to make them useful.”

A hot and cold shower runs over Harry’s back and all that he can think of is Louis’ face again when he was just seconds ago from coming. 

“Amen”, he replies. Defeat settling deep down in his body.

\--

Against general believes, Harry is able to finish his assignment on the very same day, thanks to Louis leaving only half an hour later. Nick texted him if he wanted to come over for a bit. Louis wanted to. 

\--

It’s a month later and Harry still isn’t too fond of this whole arrangement. For once because he is the one in love with Louis (yeah congratulations he figured that much out) and the next problem was that Louis now calls Nick his boyfriend. Which is a bit annoying to say the least.

“Shit, Harry”, is what Louis sighs through the speaker of his phone, while Harry’s trying to balance his groceries in one hand, his keys in the other and the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“What happened?”, he presses and breathes relieved when he’s finally able to push his keys into the lock of his front door. 

“You know that we had to hand in that assignment last week?”

“Sure, handed it in a few days prior though. I’m somehow quite productive the last weeks.”

_Which is probably caused by your absence. I would choose you though, if I could._

“Yeah, fuck. I totally missed that. Shit, all these points are gone now _fuck_.”

“Oh Lou”, Harry mumbles, very aware of the fact that these points aren’t that important for their major. But considering that Louis until now practically has earned all the points and percentages there are it’s pretty clear why he’s so upset. He’s doing hard work normally.

“Well, it’s my fault entirely. Shouldn’t have spend so much time with Nick. But you know he’s always so disappointed when we can’t meet up and I don’t want to see him like that. My time planning is utter shit.”

He sounds devastated and Harry’s urge of making Louis happy is calling in. 

“Okay, I understand. But Louis, Nick knows that you’ve got loads of coursework to do. He can’t give you shit when you’ve got a little less time for him on some days just because you have to study. He should know how important King’s is for you”, he rambles, grocery bag finally setting on his little kitchen table. Thanks to not going out with Louis every other day he’s got so much of his monthly loan left, that he could grab some things at Whole Foods. He’s actually looking forward on preparing dinner tonight.

“He does know that, Harry”, Louis states and his voice sounds unfamiliar icy. 

“Oh - okay, that’s good. Hey, Lou what about you coming over to mine? We haven’t had a movie night in ages and I just came back from a grocery run. You won’t believe what I found at Whole Foods tod-”

Harry tries to change the topic. And to get his best friend to see him again. After eight long days. Sure they saw each other in class but that’s something completely different. Louis really doesn’t have that much time for him any more.

“Sorry Harry”, Louis interrupts, at least really sounding a bit sorry. “Promised Nick to come over and I still got to study for Sociology. Won’t get anything done if I’m coming over now. How about Friday though?”

Harry doesn’t mention that Louis’ doing exactly what they’ve been talking about a few minutes earlier. _Not_ telling Nick that he needs time to study but doing everything so Nick fucking Grimshaw is happy. Harry hates it. But he sets his hopes on Friday.

“Friday sounds lovely, have a good time, Lou”, he says, just a little disappointed. Really those aren’t tears prickling in his eyes. Promise.

“Perfect, thanks for letting me whine on you, Haz. You’re the best!”, Louis rushes and before Harry can say anything else, the line is dead. 

He’s definitely not crying a bit while he’s putting away Louis’ favourite dessert that he bought for him today. It was just six pounds anyway. 

\--

So Friday comes and with it a smiley Louis Tomlinson, dancing on the dance floor of their favourite bar at Holborn with his boyfriend Nick Grimshaw plastered on his ass. 

Admittedly, that’s not how Harry imagined this evening to be. At least there’s Niall as well with that blonde girl again (he just can’t remember her name, which may be quite rude, because he’s talking to her for about fifteen minutes now. But he’s more concentrated on Louis and his fucking boyfriend anyways) and Liam promised to come around too. And it’s nice. The music’s good, Blondie is really funny and Niall buys beer for everyone. So, although this was supposed to be a quiet movie night with his best friend only, he tries to enjoy himself as much as he can. 

“Hi boys”, a chipper sounding Liam bumps into Harry and makes him forget what he actually wanted to tell Niall’s friend (girlfriend? Who the fuck knows.) “This is Alex”, he continues, pointing to a tall lad with dark brown hair and eyes, a nice jawline and an even nicer butt. Not as good as Louis’ maybe, but more than average for sure. So Liam dumped Sophia for this lad, apparently which is a bit sad, thinking about how hopeful Harry got about Sophiam, but on the other hand Alex _was_ really easy on the eyes so he couldn’t really blame him either. 

“Hey”, Harry greets, plasters a happy smile on his face and before he can add anything nice to welcome him in their little group, a drunk Niall jumps in for him.

“Didn’t know you're back on lads now, Leeyum”, he yells and starts laughing. Well, that was quite blunt. On the other hand it helped to stop the guessing about Liam’s relationships quite a few times by now.

“Well, Neill”, Liam starts and that might even be a slight blush on his face. “As I certainly wouldn’t say no to such a handsome lad in other circumstances, you know that I’m quite faithful when I’m in a relationship. Soph is coming in a few”, he adds with a small smile and Harry’s feeling his own proper and genuine smile. 

“I’m really happy for you guys”, he says and Liam beams. He’s such a puppy sometimes. 

“Why thank you, Haz. But as it is I’m still too sober for this music. Nialler, you’re coming with me!” 

And before Harry can even blink he’s alone with Alex, Niall grabbing his blonde girl by her arm and dragging her across the bar. 

Really handsome Alex, who’s now smiling at Harry like he’s the actual sun. His heart may flutter a bit. 

“So, what’s your name then?”

“Oh, ‘m Harry”, he smiles, lazily leaning against the wall next to him. His flirting posture, clear as the day to everybody who’s paying attention. But whatever. If his best friend is allowed to grind on his stupid boyfriend, Harry is allowed to have some fun as well, on their _special best friends laddy lad night_. 

“It’s really nice to meet you. Liam told me so many nice things about you”, Alex grins, positions a hand right next to Harry’s head and leans towards him. They may move a bit fast but who cares, right?

“Oh did he?”, Harry flashes a little smile and lifts his eyebrows. “And what kind of things?”

\--

And that’s how they start talking, flirting and cracking a few jokes as well. Alex is nice, is the thing. Friendly, funny and really handsome. Harry may already picture how Alex’ bedsheets may look like. 

It’s easy. So easy that Harry doesn’t even realise that Niall and Liam never come back to them, even after half an hour. Until a sweaty and red-faced Louis Tomlinson tumbles into Harry’s side, pulling him out of the magic of Alex’ eyes. 

“Here you are, Hazza. Searched the whole bar for you”, he sighs, just then realising, that Harry was talking to someone he doesn’t know.

“Sorry for interrupting who’s this?”, he asks smiling a small smile towards Alex.

“Alex”, the other one replies with a polite nod.

“Sorry again but I need to talk to lovely Hazza here for a minute”, Louis rushes, pulling Harry a few metres to the left. “Ugh, Haz”, he whines, finally.

“What’s up, Lou?”, Harry asks, suddenly concerned by Louis’ sad voice. And he really doesn’t want to, but can’t help it to caress the smaller man’s cheek softly with the back of his hand. He’s sweaty from all the dancing and Harry’s definitely not turned on by the thought of Louis grinding on _him_ and not Nick. 

“Urgh, Nick’s stupid again. Nothing serious I guess. It’s just so frustrating you know? One second everything’s fine and in the next he’s pushing me away, saying I’m too clingy or what. I mean we’re in a fucking bar, dancing and his little friend wasn’t annoyed by me being close, lemme tell you.”

_Too much fucking information. But… does that mean Nick’s got a small dick?_

A smirk steals itself on Harry’s face, which earns him a slap on the chest. 

“Stop smirking you perv. Tell me what I should do!”

He sighs. He’s really not up for a relationship talk at this place and time. 

“I don’t know. You should talk to him, I guess? Ask him why he’s pushing you away. Like the exact reason and not some cheap excuse of you being too clingy. He should know that you get a bit handsy when you drank a few.” The last part of his sentence was only mumbled, but the small smile tugging on Louis’ lips tells him, that he heard him nevertheless. 

“Yeah, you’re probably ri-”

“Louis? Finally, you’re here! Lou, I’m really sorry, can we talk?”, fucking Nick Grimshaw has to ruin the moment. Harry still manages a tiny smile. 

“Erm, sure. That’s okay, that I leave right, Hazza?”, Louis asks, big blue eyes trained on Harry’s face. In contrast to Harry, he’s not able to see how Nick rolls his eyes. God, he really hates that prick.

“Sure, Lou. I should get back to Alex anyways”, he says nudging Louis’ shoulder hopefully as playful as he’s planned. 

“Oh yeah! He seems nice! We should all get some lunch or summat”, Louis grins, little sparkles in his eyes. Harry’s heart hurts.

“Sure”, he just says. _If you find any spare time without Nick in the near future…_

“Okay, see you, Haz!”, Louis chirps and lets his boyfriend lead him out of the bar. 

He hasn’t realised that he’s staring after them until Alex’ voice appears right next to his ear. “Does the little one with the cheekbones know you’re in love with him?”

The only thing Harry is able to do is shake his head no.

\--

He’s in this magical stage between sleep and being awake where everything is a bit fuzzy in his mind; the cold sheets under his bare skin feel like heaven, the rays of sunshine, falling through the curtainless windows, leave a pleasant prickle on his skin. Otherwise his body feels unnaturally sticky and the warmth next to him can actually just be produced by another body. 

The loud whooshing sound of somebody violently breathing in is what brings him to full consciousness. His head snaps up from the pillow and turns so he can see who’s standing there in his little flat, but the last thing he sees is the back of a black jumper. 

A hand cards through his messy curls a moment later, Alex’ long fingers massaging his scalp. Harry sighs.

“That was Louis wasn’t it?”

“Cheekbone boy?”

“Yep.”

“That was Louis”, Alex confirms, stilling his fingers while Harry’s head falls on the pillow.

“Listen”, Alex sighs after a few seconds of silence. (At least that’s what is happening on the outside. _Inside_ Harry’s brain every possible alarm bell is ringing.) “I know that this was just about the sex and some frustration from your side and I’ll leave in a minute but can I maybe shower first?”

An unattractive snort leaves Harry and a small smile tugs on his lips. “No”, he mumbles, tongue sticking out. “I mean of course you can shower but, I like you. As, you know, a friend. So I’d be really happy if you’d stay for breakfast which will include my best pancakes, family recipe and all.”

“I get this strange assumption that you kinda use me as a distraction from your little friend there but as long as I’m getting food and a warm shower out of it, I’m content.”

Harry’s possible respond gets cut short by the duvet being thrown over his head and after he finally got that hot thing off his face he only sees Alex’ long, muscled and very naked body saunter into his bathroom. He doesn’t know what to say afterwards but he’s definitely enjoying the view.

\--

He sees Louis again a few hours after Alex left. And the thing is, he had a great morning. A great night, actually, with a lovely breakfast and some relaxing on the bed afterwards. Alex is a good lad. Someone he feels comfortable with even though they knew each other only for a few hours. Harry has a feeling, that he can talk to Alex openly, maybe even more so than to his other friends. Maybe because Alex isn’t too involved into this whole group of friends Louis belongs to as well. It’s easier to talk to him because he doesn’t know Louis, just knows how he looks like in a dark club with some alcohol in his veins. He doesn’t think that Alex saw much of Louis this morning. 

He’s funny, he’s smart and he’s openly gay. If Harry wouldn’t be in love with his best friend he would definitely give this thing with Alex a shot. Would invite him for a nice date, woo him a bit, maybe. And he probably should do all of this. Should try to get over Louis, who’s seemingly happy with his boyfriend and not in the slightest interested in Harry. He should delete this bubble of _HarryAndLouis_ out of his mind and start working for a real and very possible relationship. 

But the thing is, he can’t. He can’t get over Louis so fast. Not since he practically discovered this whole thing just a few weeks ago. And he knows he’s in too deep, head over heels. He feels like he would betray his own heart, if he started dating Alex and, more importantly, he would betray Alex. Wonderful Alex with that heart of gold, who understands everything Harry says and doesn’t demand anything from him in return. That boy deserves better and Harry really doesn’t want to be responsible for a broken heart and angry tears. It’s enough that he has to suffer from this.

So he hugs Alex goodbye, makes sure that he has his number saved into his phone and a friendly coffee date set for next week so he could cry about Louis and maybe get to know who of his friends may be Alex’ type. Being his personal Cupid is one of the nicest thoughts Harry had in a while.

He cleans the dirty dishes, gets some clear film for the leftover pancakes and sets the kettle on. 

Even though he himself always says differently, Louis is predictable. At least for Harry he is. So it’s no surprise when he hears a key in the lock of his front door, followed by a sarcastic yell of “Is anybody naked in here?”

“I’m not, don’t know about the poltergeist though”, Harry replies equally sarcastic and fills a second mug with tea. As predictable Louis is, this conversation is definitely not. Tea is a good start nevertheless.

They sit on the bed and drink in silence for a few minutes, until Louis coughs awkwardly into his fist, sweater paws making him look so small and soft, that Harry has to fight the urge of cuddling him into his chest.

“Sooo, you’re dating guys now?”, he asks, eyebrows furrowed and gaze locked onto Harry’s knee. It seems that he can’t quite comprehend what he’s just asked.

“No, I’m not dating him”, Harry answers truthfully, but not revealing too much. He doesn’t exactly know _why_ but he wants to wait. Wants to bring Louis to the edge, until he’s finally asking what’s really on his mind. 

“So what was that? A one time thing? A gay crises? A, I don’t know, new sexual experience? Did one of your funny guidebooks consider something like that?” He stops himself with an aggressive sip of his tea. At least to Harry it seems aggressive.

He shrugs. “No. He’s attractive, we had some fun, end of story. Didn’t know that you have something against one night stands.” 

He’s provoking and he knows it. But at least now Louis’ icy blue eyes snap up and lock with Harry’s. 

“You know, _Hazza_ ”, he snarls, the nickname sounding everything but friendly, “I have nothing against one night stands. I recommend them, actually. You know, everything to get rid of some sexual tension and some stress at the same time. Be young, have fun, all the good stuff. It starts getting, I don’t know _unconventional_ when my best friend of whom I thought I knew everything about, starts fucking random _boys_ when he actually is only interested in _girls_ as in humans with female treats like tits and those sticky things between their shaved legs, without coming out to me as gay or sexually confused or shit like that.”

Louis takes a deep breath, opens his mouth again as if he would like to say some more, but seems to think better of it and presses his lips together. He looks pissed off. Harry still wants to kiss him stupid. 

“Would’ve never thought that you of all people would have a problem with boy-on-boy action and do you realise that you sound awfully stereotypical?”, Harry replies, tone dry and he doesn’t know why he’s keeping this game up. It’s confusing, is what it is.

“For fuck’s sake, Harold!”, Louis barks, jumping off the bed, surprisingly without spilling any tea on Harry’s freshly changed bedsheets. “I don’t care if you like guys fucking you till you can’t walk anymore! I just thought that you would _maybe_ tell me that you’re bi? At least that’s what I guess you are? Please correct me if I’m wrong, because I obviously have no fucking idea what you are.”

Harry leaves his mouth closed for a few seconds, breathing in and out as evenly as he can. “You’ve never asked me, did you? You always just assumed that I’m as straight as a line and until now there’s never been a moment where I was really attracted to a guy so I don’t know. It just didn’t come up.”

Louis rubs his palms over his face, looking exhausted and just now Harry realises that this is the second time today that Louis came unannounced to his tiny flat. This wouldn’t be unusual if this was set about a month and a half prior, but now with Nick as Louis’ boyfriend this is as rare as finding Niall without either a beer in his hand or a girl by his side. So _very_ rare. 

“So you’re alright?”, Louis finally breaks the silence. “You’re not freaking out? You’re not scared? You knew this for a bit of time now? No dark thoughts, no tears? You’re good?”

Real worry is clearly written on his best friend’s face and Harry could cry because of all the love he feels for this boy. 

“No, I’m good. The nightly encounter with Mr. Rivers a few years back was quite the indication for my bisexuality. I liked sucking his cock way too much”, he grins, opening his arms for Louis to jump into them.

“Please tell me Mr. Rivers was no fifty-year-old who forced you to call him by his last name or sir or something”, Louis mumbles, head shaking disbelievingly but crawls back on the bed and finally into Harry’s arms. 

“Not really”, Harry chuckles and adds as an afterthought: “I prefer doing the fucking though. Until now anyways. Never tried it the other way. Didn’t fuck Alex, by the way.”

He feels how Louis tenses in his arms, but relaxes just a second later, so that he asks himself if he just imagined it. 

“You’re a menace”, Louis mumbles, cuddles further into Harry’s chest and pokes him relentlessly into his face, until his dimples show and he finally sets up his Macbook for them to watch some stupid show.

It takes Harry an hour and a rerun of his favourite episode of _Friends_ until he realises that he’s cuddling with his best friend, just relaxing on a lazy Saturday afternoon without thinking of any obligations. He wasn’t able to do that for weeks.

Without another thought he presses his lips onto Louis’ head who just hums appreciatively and that’s it.

\--

Harry wakes up on Sunday morning, missing the warm presence of another body pressing against his chest. He practically feels how his heart grows heavier by the second and as soon as he opens his eyes, he gets further proof that Louis left his flat some time before Harry woke up.

He can’t really say that he’s disappointed as such. He’s far too used to Louis not being around that much anymore but it still hurts a bit that his best friend didn’t even find it in himself to say goodbye. It’s not like they won’t see each other again but to Harry it kinda feels like it. 

With a sigh he sits up and shuffles into his kitchen area where he finds an empty plate which should actually hold the leftover pancakes from the morning before. His gaze flickers to the loose clear film next to the plate and finally hits a folded piece of paper.

_missed your pancakes babes! i needed to get to nick… you helped me making a decision, thank you for being my best friend! love you, lou_

Another sigh leaves Harry’s mouth and as much as he’d like to tell himself that he made Louis realise that Nick is a stupid prick and not worth the hassle, he knows that it will probably lead into another, completely different direction. 

Good lord, if he, at this point, would’ve known how right he actually is…

\--

He texts Louis on Monday afternoon, after he hasn’t seen him in any of his classes and hasn’t heard from him in over twenty-four hours. He’s probably in some ugly sex-haze with his boyfriend, but Harry still worries about him. Won’t probably ever stop worrying about his best mate/love of his life or whatever he is.

To his own surprise a text from Louis reaches him just two minutes later, containing the question if he could come over for a bit. Harry replies with a simple _sure_. He’s not going to turn down alone time with Louis, as long as he can get some of it.

\-- 

Harry knows that something’s up when he hears the faint knocking on his door and not the familiar clicking of Louis’ spare key to Harry’s flat. Normally, Louis isn’t shy in any way to just stumble into his flat without any kind of warning. On the other hand, maybe the incident with Alex scared him off a bit.

So he makes his way from the bed to the door, presses the handle down and is met by a red-cheeked, sniffling and tired-looking Louis.

“Hey Haz”, is what Louis is able to press out, before another wave of tears makes its way down his face. 

“Baby”, is what Harry sighs, and hell, this is not a pet name he should use (and never used before for that matter) but neither him nor Louis seem to care. Or even notice. The smaller boy just falls into Harry’s arms, who doesn’t even think before he’s gripping his best friend tight, shuts the door with his foot and brings them both to his bed.

Louis doesn’t cry for long, luckily. Harry would probably just start crying as well. Seeing his best friend like this makes his heart ache in more than one way. 

“What happened, Lou?”, he finally whispers after Louis’ breath went normal again and his eyes stopped watering.

“I told Nick that I love him”, Louis states, eyes unnaturally blank and hands clenched into tight fists. “He didn’t say it back, obviously. Said he needs more time. He’s an arsehole”, he just continues, while Harry desperately tries to regain his ability of speech.

 _Did you mean it? Do you really love him? Please, Louis,_ please _don’t love him. Please, don’t do this to me_.

He wants to scream every single word on his mind right now. Right into Louis’ face. But he can’t. He can’t because he doesn’t want to scream at Louis.

And because he’s too afraid of the answers.

“Are you okay?”, he asks instead, tightening his grip even more when Louis shakes his head.

“No”, he states, oddly calm. “But I will be, eventually. Right?” Big, blue eyes that look like the sea after a rough storm washed over it, stare into Harry’s green ones and the only thing Harry’s body is able to produce is a small nod.

“Sure Lou, you’re gonna be okay. Promise.”

\--

On Tuesday morning he wakes up missing the warm presence of another body pressed against his chest.

\--

It takes two days until Harry realises that Louis and Nick are still a thing and he doesn’t know what to do anymore. So he just lets it be. Lets Louis have his fun and his fantasy of a happy and healthy relationship, which this definitely isn’t and just suffers silently from the inside. This part, actually, isn’t much of a difference from before. 

He’s not saying anything until that day, a Friday of all days, beginning of the lovely weekend that makes Harry practically yell in relief, because he’s able to hide for heavenly two-and-a-half days in his tiny flat and won’t have to see Louis and his stupid prick of a boyfriend again.

Louis is, to Harry’s utter surprise, bursting into his flat a few minutes after five, Harry laying on his bed, while he’s watching a new episode of _Come Dine With Me_. He’s just thinking about that one recipe he might like to try, when his door jumps open, a giddy looking Louis standing in front of him just a few seconds after. 

“Nick asked me to move in with him!”, he announces, grin spreading all across his face, making his eyes crinkle in that beautiful way that Harry’s knees would buckle, if he wouldn’t sit on his bed right now.

On the other hand is he not even able to drink in the beauty that is Louis Tomlinson, because _WHAT_ did he just say?

“What?”

“Nick asked me to move in with him. Isn’t that exciting Hazza?”, Louis chirps, poking Harry’s toe, it being the closest body part, he could reach. 

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”, Harry asked, too dumbfounded to actually care about those words that are leaving his lips. “This is not serious, is it?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course it’s serious. Why would I tell you otherwise?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Because he’s a horrible person, Louis! When will your stupid, thick head finally realise that? He’s a fucking prick who uses you for your good looks and your reputation and he’s not someone who you should fucking move in with! Hell, Louis! Just days ago you cried your fucking eyes out because of him!”

Harry’s raging, he throws his Macbook of his legs and jumps off the bed, making two steps towards the other lad who’s just staring at him with wide eyes.

“Are you fucking _insane_?”, Louis asks, making a step back. “What are you fucking on about? He’s my boyfriend! You can’t say shit like that!”

“Yes I can, Louis! Especially when I see how he treats you! Louis, open your fucking eyes, please. He’s a horrible person!”

Louis’ mouth hangs wide open, apparently not able to form any words. Harry’s taking a deep breath. He needs to calm down, otherwise this situation will blow up. Sadly, this thought comes a bit too late.

“How’s that?”, Louis starts, arms uncrossing and eyes darkening by the second. “You’re faux protectiveness is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard! I’m happy, why can’t you accept that?”

“Because you’re not!”, Harry screams, voice on top of his lungs. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been so desperate in his life before. “I know you, Louis! I know how you look and how you act when you’re happy! And you’re not! He’s not making you happy, don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not fucking lying!”, Louis yells back, voice high pitched and on the same volume as Harry’s now. “Do you know what I think? I think you’re just not knowing me as good as I thought you would. Obviously you’re not a very good friend and I’m starting to ask myself if you ever were!”

As soon as the words are out, Harry can see how Louis’ eyes widen comically. He’s shocked, but Harry isn’t even able to acknowledge that. 

“Get out”, he says, voice dangerously low. He feels empty. The only thing he knows is that Louis just said that Harry isn’t a good friend. Probably never was. Louis. His best friend. His love. His everything. 

“Please”, he presses. “Get the fuck out, Louis. I’m not a good friend to you? Fine. Then I won’t bother you anymore. You don’t have to call me a friend anymore. You’re welcome.”

Louis is still standing on the same place he’s been on for the last dreadful thirty seconds. He’s frozen and Harry can’t deal with him any longer. Doesn’t know how long he could keep his demeanour.

“Fuck off!”, he screams, voice back on full power and then it takes only seconds, before the door slams shut, and Louis is gone. 

Louis, his best friend, his love, his everything is gone. Irrecoverably. 

\--

Wednesday is the first day that Harry goes back to classes. He just lost his best friend and he decided that he’s more than allowed to have four days of grieving over an extraordinary friendship that he thought would last at least a life-time . Since Nick has appeared out of nowhere, seemingly, Louis hasn’t been that close to Harry anymore and their little meet-ups and long chats decreased horribly fast but the knowledge that he wouldn’t even have that tiny bit of Louis is shredding Harry’s heart into tiny little pieces and makes him feel sick to his bones.

He just read on the internet that dying of a broken heart is apparently a thing. With medical facts and all. Shockingly he’s not so sad about being obviously in danger of such an ending of his life. Which is stupid and so, so wrong because he knows he got so much to live for and it’s not that he ever was depressed or had any suicidal thoughts or something and he knows that he could never do this to his mum, to his sister or any of his friends but right now he feels so fucking empty that his thoughts are running wild at times. He needs to stop, immediately, but you know, everything’s easier said than done.

So he goes back to classes to get his mind set on other things than _Louis, my Louis, I miss you Louis, it’s only been three days but I already miss you like hell, please come back and tell me you didn’t mean it, you can keep Nick if you like, you can love him, but please please come back to being my friend_ and to be honest, he can’t fuck up his major. At King’s College of all places. His life is a mess right now.

He just survived half of the day and is on his way to his second to last class of this horrendous Wednesday when he sees them. 

Louis is leaning against a side wall of the main Psychology building which is also used as kind of a border to mark the smoking allowed area. He looks uncomfortable, Harry can tell. His eyes are dull, the corner of his lips are pointing downwards and his hair falls messy into his face. He still looks like the most gorgeous person, Harry has ever seen. He’s really in too deep.

In front of him, right arm stretched out and hand pressed next to his sad face is Nick Grimshaw. Talking without pause to Louis who’s just nodding absentmindedly. Harry can’t see Nick’s face, which he’s grateful for. He probably wouldn’t survive the disrespectful expression Nick always seems to wear and that would be a shame, considering how surprisingly good the day had been up until now. 

He’s taking a deep breath and tries to convince himself that it’s not his matter anymore when Louis looks sad. It’s not his task to make him happy anymore, to bring this blinding smile back and maybe it never has been. 

He’s shaking his head and strides towards the building, hoping that Louis won’t notice him. He’s not ready for any encounter whatsoever. 

Of course, luck is not on his side and just when he’s about to pass that wall, Louis’ leaning against, the smaller lad lifts his head and within seconds his blue eyes meet Harry’s. 

At first there’s a grey shadow lying over the usually so lively blue, but then, just for a split second, Louis’ eyes seem to light up. Just in that moment when he catches sight of Harry. Which.. is ridiculous, right? Louis practically hates Harry’s guts right now. His ex-best friend looks like he’s genuinely happy to see Harry and now it looks like he wants to open his mouth and say something to him, but then his head snaps back to Nick who never even stopped talking.

It’s weird, realising that there were other people in the world in that moment. For Harry it felt like there was only him and Louis. It felt like quite the peaceful place.

He shakes his head again, tears his gaze away from the loving pair and continues his way to his class. 

Because he's way weaker than he thought he is, he turns in the last possible moment, to catch another look at his ex-best friend. Louis’ gaze lingers on Nick’s face now. Grey shadow back over this beautiful blue eyes, and sharp teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Just out of pure coincidence does Harry know, that this is Louis just seconds before he’ll start crying. He clenches his hands into tight fists and walks hastily into the Psychology building. He has a class to attend.

\--

In the next two weeks Harry sees Louis every day during classes. He knows it’s inevitable but he still always gets a little heart attack when he sees how Louis’ gaze lingers on him. And if he wouldn’t know it better, he would swear that every time a little spark appears in the dark sea of blue which makes his heart jump before he tears his eyes away, remembering himself that he has nothing to do with this person. That this is just another fellow student like the other forty people in this room are.

 --

It hits him like a lightning, striking right into his body when he sees Nick Grimshaw pressing another body against the smokers-allowed-wall, snogging the life out of a boy Harry has never seen before. His heart rate picks up momentarily and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing until he’s right next to Nick and tips him on the shoulder.

Nick isn’t very pleased about the interruption of his snogging session, so it seems, when he sends daggers into Harry’s brain just with the look he’s wearing.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”, Harry asks bluntly, voice oddly calm, even for his liking.

“Excuse me?”, Nick asks, grin plastered on his face and Harry feels how his blood starts boiling in his veins.

“Your boyfriend”, he states again, eyebrows drawn together, absentmindedly clicking the joints of his fingers.

“Don’t know who you’re talking about, _mate_ ”, Nick answers, full-on smirking now and Harry doesn’t even know how he’s able to hold himself back.

“Louis. Where is Louis. Your boyfriend of over three months now.”

“Ohhh”, Nick draws out, apparently finding himself outrageously funny. “Dumped that slag yesterday already. Didn’t really work out you know?”

There are a thousand thoughts running wild in his brain. Nick calling Louis a fucking slag. Nick dumping Louis like it never meant anything to him. Louis, who fucking moved in with Nick. 

_Shit. He moved in with Nick._

“Where is he? He fucking lived with you you prick!”, Harry shouts, no longer able to control his feelings.

“Don’t know. Kicked him out, to be honest. He didn’t really fit to the decor as much as I thought he would. Now would you kindly fuck off?”

“Oh I gladly will”, Harry answers, blinding smile plastered on his face. He sees the irritation flicking through Nick’s eyes and in the next second feels the burning pain in his knuckles of his right hand, which just collided with Nick’s face. With lightning speed, before Nick has any chance of recovering his shock, Harry grips his collar and pulls him up, windpipe clipped off effectively for the moment before he speaks again. “Never come near him again, or I swear to god!”

With a hard push he manages to throw Nick into the wall, next to his shocked fling of the hour. He collapses, gasping for air and finally lands on the floor. 

A few other students watched, mouths open, some even having their phones ready to get any further fight saved for later occasions but Harry’s done. He ignores the staring eyes on him, stomps away and makes his way to the next class he would normally share with Louis.

He needs to find him, rather sooner than later.

\--

Louis’ not at any of his classes for the day. Not that it really surprises Harry, but he still hoped that he could find him like that. Of course Louis’ also not at Harry’s. 

It was a wild idea, that snapped into his brain after he checked Louis’ favourite café close to Covent Garden. So he hopped back onto Piccadilly line, changed at Leicester Square and then again at Euston to make his way as fast as possible to Shoreditch. He never hated the stupid route of Northern Line more than on this day.

So Louis’ not there and Harry gets desperate. He’s angsty as hell, worrying over Louis so much, that his heart doesn’t know how to calm down anymore, quickly pacing through his tiny flat.

He even contemplates calling Jay, Louis’ mum, but knowing Louis, he didn’t even tell his mum about the break-up and Harry would just throw poor Jay into the same state of worrying he’s been in for the last three hours.

So he calls Liam instead and after his phone has been shut off, tries Niall. At least he picks up after ten very long seconds.

“Hazza! Wouldn’t have thought that you have the guts in you to punch someone!”, the Irishman chirps into his ear happily but the information that his little encounter with Nick already did its rounds through London is a very small stain, far, far away in his mind.

“Do you know where Louis is?”, he pants, again dangerously close to crying. His desperation has to be clear as day in his voice judging by the speed of Niall’s mood changing from his ever happy self to serious. Harry thinks that he’s never seen it happen that Niall could actually be that serious.

“He’s here, Haz, calm down, okay? Breathe. He’s save. Just napping on the couch for a while”, he trails off, voice sounding like he’s moving a bit off the speaker to maybe have a look on sleeping Louis.

“Thank god”, Harry breathes, already feeling how his pulse goes down a bit. And then: “I’m coming.”

He’s not waiting for a reply from Niall.

\--

From Shoreditch to Mudchute it normally takes around twenty-five minutes. When Harry uses his long legs to climb stairs faster and run along the corridors underground he’s able to do it in twenty. But this is London and as it is, does the DLR need important improvement works of its tracks and Harry is more or less forced to take the bus all the way from Old Street Station to Millwall Park. Going by bus while peak time is clearly written all over London’s streets is pretty much the dumbest thing you could do, especially when you’re in a hurry.

So it takes Harry one hour and fifteen minutes until he’s finally jumping out of the red bus and runs down the street to Niall’s. His pulse is, just as London's traffic, back on his peak.

He knocks frantically on Niall’s front door but it luckily only takes a few seconds until the blond one opens.

“Good to see you”, he murmurs and going by his small voice, Louis’ probably still fast asleep on his couch.

But he’s not. Which gets obvious when Harry silently enters the room, Niall close by, and he sees his Louis, cramped into a small ball, dressed in one of Harry’s jumpers that he stole from him months ago and face pressed into the back cushions of the couch.

“Niall”, he whines just before Harry wants to say something. “Why am I so stupid? I am a horrible person, I don’t deserve being happy anymore”, he cries and Harry wants to protest loudly. Wants to assure Louis that he deserves everything good in the world and more but the huge lump in his throat won’t let him. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me and what’s that I am doing? Ruining everything! Absolutely everything!”, he continues, stopping again because of a heart-breaking hiccup.

And heart-breaking is what this is indeed. Harry was sure that Louis would be devastated, hurt by Nick’s behaviour, by the destroyed bubble of his own little rom-com-fantasy. But he would’ve never thought that Nick was so important to him.

It feels like his heart is breaking all over again. And he wants to leave. Desperately so. Surprisingly it’s Niall, good-hearted, highly empathic Niall, who stops Harry from doing so by just laying his hand on his back.

“Louis, listen”, he begins, voice soft as a feather and somewhere in his mind Harry asks himself how long Niall’s been talking to Louis like that. That poor lad probably needs a break.

“No, Niall!”, Louis cries out again, face still pressed into the soft furniture. “I love him so fricking much and he hates me and I was so stupid telling him that he was never my friend but I was just so _hurt_ and shit. I’m so _in love_ with Harry it hurts. It physically hurts, Niall.”

“What”, is what Harry blurts out, shock growing deep in his veins and in the next second Louis’ flipping off the couch, facing Harry with a shocked expression in his eyes, mouth hanging wide open.

“Harry?”, he shrieks, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks and Harry's heart doesn’t know what to do. It just recovered itself cautiously, considering that he’s heard correctly and _Louis is in love with him_ somehow he doesn’t know how, but now, looking at Louis’ tiny, trembling figure, it breaks all over again.

“Louis I”, he begins, but doesn’t know where to lead this sentence. So he just stands there, mouth hanging wide open just like Louis’ did a few seconds ago. 

“Niall what the fuck!”, Louis screeches, voice failing him in the end, before he darts off. The next thing they hear is how Niall’s bedroom door slams shut and a key gets turned it its lock.

Harry’s mouth is still gaping, his eyes staring into nothing right now.

Niall behind him sighs, long and loud. “Would you _please_ go after him and finally talk all this through? I heard this for far too long now.”

Harry turns abruptly, now boring his gaze in Niall’s face. “What- what… _what_?”

“For fuck’s sake, Harry! He fucking loves you! And I know he’s been a prick to you but could you please release him from his conviction that you hate him and have never loved him because I know you fucking did and you still do so please. Please go fix this, I’m begging you.”

Harry gulps heavily, nods and before he can think otherwise makes his way to the bedroom door.

_Louis loves me, Louis may be in love with me, Louis doesn’t cry because of Nick he cries because of me, shit he can’t cry because of me, I can’t let him cry because of me, shit shit shit, fucking hell._

“Louis?”, he says, his own voice breaking now and shit, he has to pull himself together. “Lou, please open the door. I- I need to talk to you, please.”

He’s not afraid of begging, that’s for sure. He somehow has to fix this.

He’s prepared for Louis arguing, for his best friend refusing to open the door and for having to talk to him for hours, before he’s ready to move the key even a tiny bit. That’s why he’s slightly confused when the door clicks open a few seconds later. Louis doesn’t push the handle, but at least the key is turned and now it’s all up to Harry.

So he’s taking a shaky breath and pushes the door open, to reveal his best friend, still in his jumper but now huddled on Niall’s bed where Harry first saw him with Nick. He never wants to think about that moment again.

He makes his way to the other side of the bed, silently, cautiously sitting down on the edge and finally lifts his gaze to lock his eyes with Louis’.

_God, he’s so beautiful._

“Hi”, he whispers, afraid to somehow shy Louis away like he’s a frightened animal.

“Hi”, the other boy whispers back and although he’s probably skipping a few steps in their little (or not so little) talk, he can’t help himself but climbing completely on the bed now, spreading his arms and waiting for Louis to take his invitation. Maybe it can also count as some kind of peace offer.

He sees the small smile playing on Louis’ lips and then eventually feels the warmth of another body pressed against his chest. He has to use all of his strength to not choke up right now. Instead he just pulls Louis even closer to his body, nose pressing into the feathery brown hair and finally smelling the pure smell which is _Louis_ and _home_ and _love_ , even though they aren’t quite there yet.

“I missed you so much, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Harry, please. I’m begging you, please forgive me. I- I”, Louis rambles into Harry’s chest, fingers gripping tightly into Harry’s long sleeved shirt. 

“Shh, I’ve got you”, Harry tries soothing him, hands wandering over Louis’ trembling body. 

They sit like that for a while. Just holding each other and breathing each other. Harry feels calmer with every second that he gets to hold Louis and his heartbeat feels like it's gaining strength by the fact the Louis seems to feel the same way.

“Is it true?”, he mumbles after a few moments which could have been seconds or hours, he can’t tell anymore.

“What?”, Louis sniffles quietly, drawing back from their embrace, but staying close to Harry. 

“That you’re in love with me.”

Louis’ eyes grow wide again and for a split second Harry sees the panic rising in them but then, just as if a switch got pressed, Louis calms down.

“‘m afraid so, yes”, he answers and Harry thinks that he’s maybe never sounded so truthful and genuine ever before. It makes his heart flutter even more, if that’s possible.

_Louis loves me. He’s in love with me._

“Why, Louis?”, he suddenly cries out, not knowing where all those emotions should go. “Why?”

The panic is back in the smaller lad’s eyes and Harry realises that this may have come out wrong.

“I- I’m sorry, Haz. I know you’re not feeling the same way, but I just.. I can’t help it and-”

“No, no Louis, listen!”

“I’m sorry”, Louis’ back on full-on sobbing now and Harry could hit himself. “Please be my friend, please. I- we- we don’t have to be so close, you know? But please don’t leave me again!”

 _Shit_ , Harry thinks, _if Louis continues like that I’ll start crying as well again._

“Louis”, he says once more and something about his voice brings Louis to finally shut up. “I didn’t mean why you love me, for heaven’s sake. I mean I don’t get it how you, beautiful, gorgeous, clever and all in all lovely boy could love me of all people but… right now I meant, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

Louis snorts at that, his emotions obviously riding the same exhausting roller coaster as Harry’s do. “Couldn’t really tell my straight best friend that I’m undyingly in love with him, basically since the first day I’ve met him and therefore risk a pretty brilliant friendship now, could I?”

“Shit”, Harry curses, mind racing that Louis basically just told him that he loves him for more than two years now. And he’s been so stupid all the time. “I’m so sorry.”

“That you don’t feel the same or…?”

Harry shakes his head violently. He may have to clear some things up. “No, for me being stupid and wasting all that time we could have had together.”

His gaze finds Louis’ again and a smile tugs on his lips when he sees Louis' small grin.

“So does that mean that…?”, Louis trails off again and this time Harry just has to roll his eyes because of that stupid, lovely boy in front of him.

He doesn’t even acknowledge, that he lifted his hand until he feels the soft skin of Louis’ cheek under his palm, his thumb gently wiping the last tear streaks under his eye. It then only takes him about a second, to bring his other hand to Louis’ face and lean in.

He stops, when just millimetres separate his lips from Louis’, his eyes again searching for the other boy's. He feels warm breath on his skin, sending goosebumps all over his body and shivers down his spine. He feels a smaller hand on his cheek and another hand gripping the collar of his shirt. He sees how Louis’ eyes flicker between his and his lips and then he just can’t hold it any longer, closes his eyes and seals their lips together. 

If he would see this in a rom-com and listen to both of them releasing a soft sigh as soon as their lips touch he would probably roll his eyes.

But like this, with the love of his life right in front of him, and his lips softly pecking his, before a tongue runs over his bottom lip, he’s only able to slide his left hand into Louis’ hair, trying to get him even closer, and open his mouth to deepen the kiss.

As cliché as it is, it’s more than he’s ever wished for and he can’t feel his heart anymore, so rapidly it is beating in his chest. He really feels butterflies in his tummy and he promises himself to tell Louis later that his tattoo does have a meaning, thank you. But right now? Right now he just wants to continue kissing Louis. His Louis. His best friend. His love. His everything.

\--

They exchange kisses for god knows how long, them changing from deep and loving to steamingly hot and back in less than seconds until an obnoxious knock sounds through the room and then Niall’s voice yelling: “You will not fuck on my bed!”

Harry snorts quite unattractively and Louis starts cackling so loud that the mood for this moment is definitely killed. 

But that’s not so bad, it seems that they have some more to share in the future.

\--

It’s later that night, that they are cuddling on Niall’s couch, the blond one finally claiming his bed for the night and them both being too lazy to make their way over to Harry’s. Harry’s lying against the fluffy pillow Niall sacrificed for them graciously, with Louis snuggling into his chest, dainty fingers drawing invisible pattern on the skin under his collarbones. 

“Lou?”, Harry asks, too many questions burning on his mind, making it impossible for him to sleep, even though the weight and warmth of Louis’ body is deliciously reassuring.

“Hm?”

“Did you ever love him?” He’s not saying the name, can’t say it. He knows that Louis knows. Feels it in the way the older boy’s body tenses.

“No”, he answers and Harry is sure that he can believe him. He feels a heavy weight fall from his chest.

“Then why did you tell him?”, he asks nevertheless. He just tries to understand. Feels like he needs some closure from this horrible chapter that was Nick Grimshaw. 

“You know I always thought that you’re straight”, Louis mumbles into his chest and Harry’s confused. He doesn’t ask though, guesses that Louis will continue as soon as he feels like it. “And then I saw you with Alex which… was a surprise I guess. And then I had this idea that, hey, if Harry’s into guys as well, _I_ may even have a chance. That’s why I came over later that day. I wanted to know if it was just some drunken mistake with a guy or if you just wanted to try it but maybe didn’t like it. If I really could have a shot at wooing you.” He actually chuckles a bit at that and Harry just tightens his grip once more. “And then that conversation came and you told me it wasn’t a mistake but you also told me that you’ve just never, since we both met, had seen a guy you were attracted to and then it just dawned me that I would have no chance in hell. If you weren’t interested in any kind of _sexual_ relationship with me for two years you probably wouldn’t be any time soon, right?”

He pauses for a bit and Harry would love to slap himself again. He’s been so, so stupid.

“So then I thought if I can’t do anything about the guy I really loved then I could just give this other a shot right? Didn’t have a lot to lose, right? I was convinced that I already lost you, so…”, he trails off again.

“I am so sorry”, Harry mumbles, probably for the millionth time this night. But he really, truly is and he can’t say it enough. And then it dawns on him. “So that’s why you wrote on that note that I have helped you into making a decision. To tell Nick you loved him, even though you didn’t.”

Louis doesn’t say anything but cautiously nods his head.

“God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah aren’t we all”, Louis mumbles and Harry can hear the faint smile in his voice. “And just for the record. I didn’t cry because Nick didn’t say he loves me. Though, yeah maybe a bit. Because I really asked myself what’s so horrible about me that nobody seems to love me. Running to you although I was still moping over you wasn’t maybe my best idea ever, but you know.. You always make me feel better when I’m sad. That’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

The last part is said in a whisper, like it’s a secret that only Louis and Harry are allowed to know. Maybe it really is.

“I love you so much, Lou. Really. You’re such a beautiful person, inside and out. Please don’t ever think that nobody loves you. That’s so wrong. So, so wrong”, he mumbles, pulling Louis up in their embrace so he can press his lips onto the older boy’s.

“Thank you”, he feels Louis whisper against his lips, new shivers bolting down his spine. “Thank you for loving me, I know it’s not so easy.”

“Shut up”, Harry growls and the sound of Louis giggling afterwards is pure music for his ears. He wants to bottle it up and keep it for himself only.

He’s an awfully selfish person. At least when it comes to his boyfriend.

\--

“Did you know!”, Harry hears Louis’ voice as soon as he enters Niall’s flat. Niall, being the generous guy he sometimes really is, left it the day before because he actually wanted to visit his parents and friends in Ireland for a while now and deemed the next two weeks without exams as the perfect time to do so.

It’s been four days since Louis and Nick broke up and three days since Harry and Louis got together. And to Harry, it’s been the best three days of his life. Which sounds awfully cheesy, but Harry is nothing if not cheesy. Let’s face it. He gets to kiss Louis Tomlinson several times a day and that’s pretty much awesome. He’s so in love he can’t quite understand that this is reality.

But as it is, Louis still hasn’t got a new flat, didn’t really search for one in the last days either, to be honest, and now flat-sits Niall’s little home. 

And this is definitely quite nice, because as Louis’ boyfriend (and Niall’s friend too, but who cares for details?) Harry is allowed to be there too and like this Louis and Harry will have a real kitchen for them to make a romantic dinner or two and a little living room where they can cuddle and watch a film or two and a real bedroom where -

But then appears Louis in the small entryway and Harry’s thoughts turn silent.

“What?”, he asks and smiles, can’t help when he sees Louis’ matching one on his face.

“Thaaaat”, the other boy draws out and continually etches closer to Harry. “I’ve got the best boyfriend ever?”, he finishes finally and Harry’s face feels like it will break, so huge is his grin. 

“Really? Who’s that lucky guy?”, the taller lad chirps and makes absolutely ridiculous grabby hands towards Louis, who just rolls his eyes.

“Shut up and ask me why”, he huffs but steps into Harry’s arms nonetheless. 

Harry’s hands settle on his boyfriend’s waist, grabbing and pulling until their chests are pressed flush together.

“Can’t really shut up and ask something can I?”

This earns him a swat on his left upper arm but he doesn’t really care, just feels the butterflies in his tummy. 

“Harold.”

“So why, my dear Louis, do you have the best boyfriend ever?”, Harry complies finally, secretly wanting to know the reason that Louis’ big smile reappears on his face.

“Because he’s all tall and brave and strong and cute and he beat the shit out of Nick Grimshaw.”

Louis’ smile falls a bit. But not in the bad way, more like it’s growing more loving, more private. A smile which is especially reserved for Harry (which, Niall pointed out earlier, apparently they both have that kind of facial expression which they only show towards the other one) and feels awfully, beautifully intimate. 

Harry needs to clear his throat before he’s able to talk. “I’d not say that I beat _the shit_ out of him exactly…”, he murmurs, feeling a blush ghosting over his face when he thinks of all the passersby who witnessed the whole scene.

“I love you”, is what Louis answers promptly and just like that all the other people are erased of Harry’s mind. 

“I love you, Louis”, he says back, hands now wandering to the smaller lad’s face, cupping his cheeks softly. “He deserves so much more than this little punch he got and-”

Again, he gets cut off, this time not by Louis’ looks but by his lips on Harry’s.

And it’s not quite like all the kisses they shared before (which are surprisingly a lot, considering they’re only dating for three days), as it is with more pressure. Louis’ thin lips pressed shortly onto Harry’s and then teeth biting into his plump bottom lip. He can’t help but groan by the feeling of Louis’ tongue gliding over the spot, where his teeth have been merely seconds before. He feels Louis’ hands roaming over his chest, his shoulders and then down until he reaches the end of Harry’s favourite lilac jumper and slides his hands under the soft fabric.

A shiver races through Harry’s body as soon as he feels those hands on his bare chest, his nipples already a bit hard before Louis’ fingertips have even reached them. 

Louis’ tongue slips between Harry’s lips and again a groan leaves his parted lips. 

It’s too much and not enough and _fuck_ Harry needs more. He needs Louis like he’s never needed anything or anyone before and he needs him fucking _now_. 

“Lou”, he sighs into Louis’ mouth and starts wandering his hands as well, feeling the movement of Louis’ shoulder blades under his fingertips, and carefully runs his fingernails over the whole of Louis’ back until he reaches the swell of his bum. He wants to touch so badly but isn't sure if he’s crossing any line with that. They haven’t been to this level quite yet. Of course they kissed loads, even pretty steamy and there already have been roaming hands and little moans but this feels entirely different. 

And Harry wants to make this right. He knows how Nick treated him and he knows that this relationship was really sexual and he hates it that Nick has been that way. And he doesn’t want to be like that. He wants Louis to feel loved and cherished, he wants him to feel safe and comfortable and he wants Louis to want Harry just as much. Which is a bit unlikely, considering that Harry wants him _so much_. 

And so he waits. And he waits now. And well, it pays off.

“You can touch me, you know”, Louis pants just a few seconds after Harry put his hands on the small of his back, right above his bum. 

“God Louis, I love you so much”, Harry sighs nevertheless, emphasizing the word love with all he has and finally moves his hands that tiny bit down until he feels Louis’ round, full and absolute perfect arse under his fingertips.

“Love you too”, Louis answers between little kisses, he plasters all over Harry’s jaw, nibbling his way over the skin and moans when Harry really starts grabbing his bum. It’s wonderful, is what it is.

“Get that stupid thing off”, is what Louis mutters next, pushing and pulling Harry’s jumper, to finally get it over his head.

And Harry would pout and whine that this jumper is definitely not stupid, but right now he’s way too occupied with getting his hands back on Louis as soon as his stupid jumper is over his head and out of the way.

He shudders when he feels Louis’ fingers back on his nipples, scratching and pulling just so that another shower runs over Harry’s body and he can’t help but close his eyes and let his head fall back against the front door. 

He can’t do anything, just feel. Louis’ fingers on his nipples, his teeth on his throat biting little marks into his skin and then his leg sliding between Harry’s and pressing against his ever growing cock, which feels now awfully trapped in his skinny jeans. 

“God Louis”, he moans again, hands automatically back on the other lad, pulling his thin shirt over his head before he can even think. And the whole situation doesn’t get better when he finally feels skin on skin, Louis dainty fingers wandering to the waistband of his jeans.

“Harry”, he whispers as if to not wake Harry out of this dream and maybe, maybe it’s just that, a dream because this is all too fucking perfect but then he really doesn’t want to wake up so he just presses his eyelids down, being a little stubborn, even when Louis says his name again, a little louder now.

His eyes snap open though when Louis thrusts his leg particularly hard into Harry’s crotch, trapping his cock even more.

Harry feels like all of his breath left him, like his lungs got crashed, when he realizes that Louis’ perfect blue eyes are boring into his green ones. His emotions are overflowing, mixing love and arousal and excitement and even a little fear when he thinks _I can’t lose you, I would not survive this, I love you so much._

“Harry”, Louis says again, for the third time now. “I want you.”

Harry lets out a deep breath he doesn’t know how.

“Are you sure?”, he whispers, hands slipping back into place on Louis’ cheeks, thumb stroking softly under Louis’ eyes. 

Louis’ eyelids flutter and Harry doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what’s happening. He’s scared that Louis didn’t mean it, that he would back away any second now and would probably leave forever. Or that he would get angry at Harry for misunderstanding him or-

“Do you want me?”, he asks, eyes back onto Harry’s.

He gulps. He doesn’t know what Louis wants to hear, doesn’t know what to say. He decides himself for the truth.

“Yes. You - I - I mean - I. Yes”, he says, cheeks heating up even more, if that’s possible.

“Good”, Louis nods. “I want you too. I love you, Harry. I trust you. I know that you’re not like him and I love you. I want you too, I promise.”

“God”, Harry sighs. He’s not even able to form a coherent sentence anymore and kisses Louis again, before he can babble anything stupid. 

“You can call me Louis”, the smaller boy snickers into the kiss and that’s when something snaps inside Harry’s body. In the next second he got them both turned, now Louis being the one pressed against the front door, gasping for air from the sudden movement and clasping his hands into Harry’s shoulder, when he leans in.

“We’ll see about that”, the younger lad whispers into his ear and Harry feels the shiver running through Louis’ body on his own.

Now he’s the one biting marks into Louis’ skin while sneaking a hand down his naked chest, over the waistband of his jogging bottoms and finally presses the heel into Louis’ crotch.

“You’re hard”, he murmurs into Louis’ skin and tightens his grip on Louis’ cock through the fabric. 

“Yeah what do you think, Sherlock”, the other boy retorts, trying to sound annoyed. His shaky voice and quick breathing betrays him though. “What about you do something about it, hm?”

“Hm”, Harry murmurs, keeping up the teasing touches and light kisses. “I don’t know..”

“I’m not up for begging tonight, Styles, leaves this for another night.”

“So begging for another time, hm? I guess I’m looking forward to it.” He’s sure that Louis can feel his smirk against his skin.

“If you don’t get your huge cock in me in the next five minutes I will literally cuff your hands on the bed posts and have you watch me doing it to myself”, Louis huffs, now grabbing Harry’s cock through his jeans.

“Shit”, Harry curses, rapidly gripping his hands under Louis’ bum and promptly lifting him off his feet. He needs to get to the bedroom asap.

“You have handcuffs with you?”, he asks nevertheless, just for good measure. 

“Don’t get kinky, Harold. But I bet Niall has some of these things hidden here somewhere. Think he’s the type, isn’t he?”

“I really don’t want to think about Niall right now”, Harry growls, laying Louis onto the bed and then hastily fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. Luckily he’s quite used to getting out of skintight jeans so it doesn’t take that much of time. 

As soon as he looks up his heartbeat stops for a second until it starts beating in an even higher pace than before.

There he is, Louis, his boyfriend, lying in all his naked glory on the bed, stroking his hard and already leaking cock while watching Harry undress with hooded eyes. 

“Fuck me”, Harry moans which causes Louis to fucking giggle and who would’ve thought that giggling could be this sexy?

“I thought you’d do me, to be honest. This thing you’ve got there looks rather promising.”

“Yeah- yeah, I mean- I-”

“C’mon, love”, Louis smiles, all soft and loving again.

He chugs off his boxer briefs and lets his cock bob against his abs, then climbs onto the bed to hover over Louis’ naked frame. 

“Shit that thing is really something else”, he mumbles and Harry can’t help but snort a laugh.

“I’d let you do it though”, he mumbles, placing a small closed-mouthed kiss onto Louis’ lips. “Fuck me. I trust you and I really wanna do it with you.”

“Shit, Harry”, Louis groans, boring his fingernails into Harry’s naked shoulders. “I love you. We can do that. Anything you want. But please, I need you now.”

Harry nods, doesn’t want to break the moment between them and really wants to start now, also for his cock’s sanity to be honest it being as hard as probably never before, but then realises that he’s awfully unprepared.

“Do we have lube somewhere?”

“My bag, right side”, Louis just pants, sliding his hands down Harry’s body.

The taller lad jumps out of the bed again and towards Louis’ bag, rumoring in it until he triumphantly thrusts the lube up in the air. Luckily the way back to Louis isn’t that far.

“You know, you’ve got a really nice ass. Perky and strong. Not as nice as mine though, have to disappoint you there, love.”

Harry snorts, while uncapping the small tube. It’s been used before, he realises. He really tries to just imagine Louis using it for himself and not with anybody else. It doesn’t matter though. He’s his now and he really doesn’t fucking care if this sounds possessive as shit.

“Nobody has such a perfect arse as you have, my love”, he mumbles back and Louis wants to say something else but all he’s able to let out is a long-drawn “Shit”, when Harry finally traces his rim with a slicked up finger and shortly after pushes in, all the way to his knuckle.

“You okay?”, he mumbles pressing little kisses all over the other boy’s face. 

“Feels good, feels perfect, Hazza. Urgh, love your fingers, they are so fucking long”, he moans in response and Harry can’t help but smile like an idiot about that. Nick with his stupid fingers can fuck right off. But he probably shouldn’t think about this asshole anyways, with the love of his live all spread out in front of him, two of his fingers constantly disappearing into the tight heat of Louis’ hole, his eyes pressed closed his mouth open, it leaving a constant stream of little moans.

It’s when he’s got three fingers buried deep into Louis and crooks them up a bit while pumping them in and out that Louis’ moans get louder.

“Right there Harry, _fuck_ please right there”, is what can be heard through the thick air of the room and he just can’t anymore.

“Louis, Louis _fuck_ ”, Harry moans, even though all he feels is his fingers inside of Louis and Louis under him and Louis’ hands clutching his bicep and nothing on his cock but it’s the best damn thing he’s ever experienced.

“‘M ready, ‘m ready”, Louis pants, thrusting his hips up to emphasize the meaning of his words. 

“Okay”, he mumbles, cautiously pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets before he’s grabbing the lube again.

Louis’ a panting mess under him, already and Harry can’t wait to love him with all of his body.

“Lou”, he suddenly says, the lube already near his cock. “I- I don’t have a condom.”

But Louis just shakes his head rapidly, snaking his legs around Harry’s waist to urge him forward. “I’m clean, I swear. I never did it without a condom with Nick, I promise. Harry, I just- I want you. I love you so much and I want to feel you and-” A single tear rolls down Louis’ face and just so Harry’s throbbing cock is forgotten.

“Sh, Lou, shh”, he soothes, pressing kisses all over his face again, catching the tear before it can make its way towards his chin. “I’ve got you. I’m clean too, I want to feel you too. I love you.”

He presses a last, long kiss onto Louis’ lips and then grabs the lube again to slick up his cock.

The cool liquid and the light pressure of his fingers already feel like heaven on his dick and he really doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive being actually inside Louis, the one he loves so much he can’t breathe, most of the time he’s near him.

But, oh well.

“Ready?”, he asks again, his cock nudging against Louis’ hole. The other boy just whimpers, tightens the grip of his legs around Harry’s waist and nods. 

Harry takes a deep breath, a poor attempt on calming himself down a bit.

And then he’s pushing in, inch for inch and he feels like his heart his beating out of his chest. Louis’ body feels so good wrapped all around him, squeezing his cock so right and perfect, it feels like puzzle pieces finally falling into each other.

He stops, as soon as he bottoms out, giving both of them some time to get used to this. It’s impossible is what it is, but it gives them some time to breathe.

“Harry”, Louis whispers and even at this volume his voice sounds broken. Harry’s head perks up, it being tucked into Louis’ neck up to this point.

“What’s wrong, baby?”, he asks concerned. “Are you all right? Shall I a pull out, I-”

“Harry”, Louis says again, voice now a bit stronger, look as loving as ever. “It’s perfect. You, this, everything. I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t know what to answer so he just kisses his boy. Their bodies linked in the most intimate way possible, he kisses Louis and tries to put every little emotion he’s feeling into this one kiss. 

“I love you too. So much”, he sighs, their lips parted by only millimetres.

“That’s great, but please fuck me now, Harold.”

Louis’ snarky voice is back and Harry snorts before he’s pulling out nearly all the way and thrust his hips forwards. The slide of his cock against Louis’ walls is delicious and the moan he gets in return is even better. He loves that Louis’ vocal in bed. Loves everything about this, really.

They don’t say anything after that. The slapping of skin on skin and their moans are everything that could be heard in that moment. 

It could be a bit embarrassing, how fast Harry’s orgasm approaches him but judging by the blissed out expression on Louis’ face he’s not far behind.

“‘M close”, Harry finally breathes out and Louis just nods in confirmation.

It takes two, three, four more thrusts against his prostate until Louis’ orgasm is washing over him, his cock spurting cum in between of their bodies.

The perfect view and Louis’ hole clenching around his cock is all it needs for Harry to come inside of Louis and ride out both of their highs with a few sloppy thrusts.

Afterwards they collapse into a mess of limbs, lube and come and sweat everywhere but it doesn’t really matter.

Because Harry’s there and it’s Louis there with him and it’s perfect and they love each other and Harry probably just had the best orgasm of his entire life.

_Yeah _, he thinks, while Louis pulls him by his curls into another tongue-filled, wet and absolutely amazing kiss _this is all I’ve ever wanted, you’re all I’ve ever wanted, Louis Tomlinson.___

__He’s pretty sure he will never let this boy go again._ _

__\--_ _

__“No, no, no, no! It’s Harry, let me tell you!”_ _

__A sarcastic snort can be heard throughout the room._ _

__“I mean, I see where you’re coming from. But look at them! It’s Louis, one hundred percent.”_ _

__“But wouldn’t it be a waste of bum?”_ _

__“Heeeey!”, Harry chimes in, finally having enough of the discussion Niall and Liam had for about ten minutes now. He doesn’t exactly know when or how (probably in between of beer number three and four) his friends started to assume who would top and who bottom in his and Louis’ relationship but this lazy talk about one of his boy’s best assets (you know _ass_ ets, Harry _is_ absolutely funny after all) is definitely not okay for him. This bum has to be cherished and not talked about like last football season. _ _

__“It’s okay babe, they’re just jealous”, Louis chuckles, patting Harry’s head a few times and smiling at him confidently._ _

__Harry rolls his eyes. “Why are you so invested anyways? You start screeching like little girls when we just as much as kiss and now you’re discussing our sex life?”_ _

__“Our well developed sex life, baby”, Louis throws in again and now winks at Harry. He can’t help but let a huge grin spread out on his face. Thoughts running back to just hours ago, when Louis took his time in spreading him out, first with his tongue and then with his fingers, continuously working his prostate until Harry felt like a whimpering mess. Since he bottomed the first time a week ago he really could understand the perks of it. His prostate being assaulted by a thick cock is way better than he thought it would be. And even if there weren’t these electric sparks crushing through his body, it would be enough to just _feel_ Louis so close. Him being _inside_ of Harry, being the closest that anybody’s ever been to him means so much to Harry, that he actually shed some tears afterwards. Louis kissed them away, one by one and then spooned him like Harry never thought someone could spoon him, especially since Louis is smaller than him. But he felt so loved and safe and close to him, that ever since he whines until he can be the little spoon._ _

__He loves Louis just so much, is the thing._ _

__“But have you seen Harry’s junk?”, Niall yells, completely ignoring Harry’s earlier question. Which, rude. Just as rude as this question, directed to a seemingly deeply in thoughts being Liam._ _

__“Yeah you’re right”, the other one then nods and lifts his gaze to watch them both with a serious look. “Harry really has big cock, _that_ would be a waste.”_ _

__“Really that’s enough!”, Louis rushes, jumping off his place on the kitchen counter, the other’s being seated on the little plastic chair and on pillows on the floor of Harry’s tiny flat._ _

__“Hey, Lou, calm down! ‘s just fun ‘s all!”, Niall grins, taking another swig of his beer._ _

__“Yeah yeah”, Louis mumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t fucking care what you think who tops. My problem is just that apparently everybody has seen my boyfriend’s cock before _I_ did. What the fuck?”_ _

__It’s silent after Louis’ little outburst. Only for a few seconds though._ _

__“Great, Louis! Look what you’ve done!”, Liam then yells, kind of angry but with a playful tremor in it._ _

__“What?”, Louis asks back, too confused to be upset anymore._ _

__“You said the _b_ -word”, Niall chimes in, his fingers nibbling at the little etiquette on his beer bottle. _ _

__“What the fuck guys?”_ _

__“Boyfriend”, Liam clarifies, finally. “Look at Harry’s face. He’s all mush again.”_ _

__It’s just then, that Harry snaps out of it. He hasn’t even realised that his expression switched into fond, eyes trained on Louis beautiful face._ _

__“But it’s right though”, Louis smirks with a quick look in Liam’s direction. And then to Harry: “You are my boyfriend.”_ _

__Harry feels another big smile blossom on his face, cheeks dimpling so much that it kinda hurts. In a good way, somehow._ _

__“Yeah”, he sighs._ _

__The next thing he knows is that he’s got a lap full of Louis, thin lips on his own and small hands in his hair, pulling them closer together. He also hears the faint complaining of his two friends and then his flat door falling shut after the back of his head got hit by a pillow._ _

__He doesn’t care about the latter._ _

__\--_ _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! you are very welcomed on my [ tumblr ](http://mirilik.tumblr.com/) to have a chat or gush about Louis Tomlinson and/or Harry Styles.


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